Chapter 31 Tyler
The furor in the hallways leading up to the homecoming game is bigger than anything I’ve ever experienced, even at Hamilton Lakes.
Everywhere I turn, I see blue—banners and pom-poms and face paint.
I have to avert my eyes from the posters lining the main hallway, because every other one features my own face.
It’s not so easy to avoid the cheering of everyone around me, though. “Tyler! Good luck tonight!” one of the trumpeters from jazz band (Miguel?) says as they pass me in the halls. I hold out my hand for a fist bump, and they dap me up much more elaborately than I’m prepared for.
In history, the lecture is somehow even homecoming themed—Mr. Chase has pulled a bunch of primary sources so we can evaluate which school was the real originator of the tradition.
Apparently, it’s hotly contested, and Mr. Chase has a conspiracy theory or two of his own, but the group work mostly turns into whispered conversations about who they think will be awarded MVP tonight. (He doesn’t seem to mind.)
And when I step into the cafeteria for lunch, the mascot swoops down upon me, flapping its feathery wings in my face with a shrill ca-caw! A little creepy, that thing.
But in the wake of my conversation with Sabrina, all of it puts a smile on my face again. She listened. She believed me. And she wants to stay by my side.
I don’t know for sure that she shut down any burgeoning rumors in Hamilton Lakes, but it’s easy to picture her shooting a sharp glare at anyone who dares open their mouth about me. The image puts a dumb grin on my face.
Whatever the explanation, no one seems to care what rumors might be flying in Brownsville. Right now, I’m a Hamilton Lakes Hawk, and that’s all that matters.
The vibes in the locker room are raucous that afternoon, everyone letting off their nerves by being as loud and full of bravado as possible.
“I hear their quarterback doesn’t know the alphabet well enough to remember his own plays,” Kai shouts, casually draping a towel around his neck.
“And their defensive line is as full of holes as the underwear I just Marie-Kondo’d! ”
Gabe points at me. “Holloway could take any of them in his sleep, couldn’t he?”
I wince. “I mean, I didn’t do so hot in practice this week…”
I’m half joking, but Will looks offended at the mere suggestion. “What, did you think we were going to pull you off the starting line for one bad day?”
My silence is answer enough. They sure have enough guys to replace me. And honestly, I’m happy just to be playing—I don’t need any glory.
Will’s frown deepens. “How are you feeling today?”
“Much better.” I meet his eyes squarely. “I’m sorry for my attitude the last few days. And I really appreciate you checking in on me.”
He shrugs. “It’s my job. You let me help from now on, okay?
You’re a part of our team now. We don’t just like you for your blocks and hits.
We’re here for everything.” He hesitates.
Then, lowering his voice, he adds, “Listen, I’ve been meaning to come clean about something.
I know you were trying to keep the rumors from me, but… I knew.”
I blink. “What?”
Will smiles slightly. “Coach told me as soon as you joined the team. Your old coach said you were acting in defense of a friend, and as soon as we saw the way you pitched in here in Hamilton Lakes, we knew that other guy’s story was bullshit.
” I’m gaping, all the puzzle pieces of the fall reshuffling in my mind.
“You’re a good guy, Tyler. I never had any doubts about you.
Just was worried about how you were coping with it all and wanted you to know you could lean on me if you needed to. ”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Damn. I wish you’d told me, man. It would’ve been nice to know there was someone I could trust around here.”
Will cocks his head. “But would you have trusted me? I kinda got the sense you had your walls up until proven wrong, and I don’t blame you after everything you went through. I was kinda afraid I’d offend you—or spook you for good—if I said anything.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right.” Slowly, I start to smile. “I really tried to keep y’all at a safe distance.”
A matching smile tugs at the corners of Will’s mouth. “How’d that work out for you?”
I laugh. Maybe Will’s right. That I’m part of a team again, and they have my back the way I always wanted.
Maybe one disappointment doesn’t have to mean I’m doomed for eternity.
And maybe I need to be sure I have a full community around me so I’m not just leaning on Sabrina.
I’ve never been that guy, and I don’t want to become him now.
So, I clap Will on the shoulder and say, “You know, if football doesn’t work out, you’d be a great therapist.”
Will screws up his face, considering. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.”
I grin. “Both?”
And then we fall into the familiar roughhousing, all glancing punches and tousling of hair, that I hadn’t realized I missed so much until this moment.
That same lightness carries me all the way out to the field, spills over onto my new teammates.
Onto Kai, who I review plays with. And onto Gabe, who’s shaking out his hands and legs the way he always does when the nerves are getting the better of him before a game—who I slug playfully on the shoulder and remind, “You’re gonna feel better in about ten minutes. ”
Next year is still precarious, dependent on John’s decisions. But I have at least one more game with these guys. And right now, that’s enough.
It’s then, feeling like I truly belong to my new team for the first time all year, that I look up into the stands and freeze at what I see: my parents and a line of my old teammates, right in the front row. Jared, Santi, Avery, and Dylan.
I remind myself to breathe. I hadn’t let myself imagine how good it might feel to see them again, and it has me embarrassingly emotional.
I’d never thought the next time I saw my old team, they’d have their faces painted blue, wearing Hawks merch straight from Harper’s spirit-wear line.
Avery even holds up a number 13 placard.
My eyes burn, and I have to blink hard to clear my vision as I break away from the Hawks and jog toward the bleachers.
“Tyler!” Mom cries, throwing her arms around me in the tightest squeeze I’ve ever experienced. “It’s so good to see your face outside of a cell phone screen! You’re full-sized!” She pulls back to survey me. “In fact, did you get even bigger?”
“I don’t know, Mom. We’ve been bulking.” I can’t repress my smile. “It’s good to see you too.”
Dad hugs me next, his clinch even tighter than Mom’s. “Your new team still treating you right?” he asks gruffly. “Because if they’re not, we can make some calls—”
“I’m good, Dad.” I shake my head, still grinning. “I miss you guys, but I like it here. And Uncle Mike and Aunt June and Ryan have all been great. Really.”
“Sounds like your new coach has been too.” He’s scanning the bleachers. “I’m glad he finally got you in front of some scouts. That guy from Michigan seemed real serious. You know if he’s here today?”
My stomach flips at the thought—I haven’t dared to hope—but luckily Mom slaps Dad’s shoulder lightly in reprimand.
“Evan,” she chides. “We can interrogate him later. He’s got a game to play. And—” She gestures down the line, where my old teammates are on their feet waiting. “And he has friends to see too.”
Dad nods. “Can’t wait to see you play again. You show ’em, okay? And then we’ll get dinner after. Catch up properly.”
I nod, hugging them both once more before I edge past to my friends, my heart racing. I told myself it didn’t matter—that if they didn’t trust me, there was no coming back from that.
But maybe there is. Maybe trust can be regained. If there’s one thing Sabrina’s taught me this year, it’s that there’s more hope than you sometimes fear.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, breathless.
My words are drowned out by the dogpile of them on top of me, hooting and clapping my back and waving their spirit signs in the air.
“How are you? How’s the season? Santi, whatever happened with that Duke recruiter?
And—” I glance down at Jared’s and Avery’s clasped hands, my eyes widening.
“Holy shit, did you two finally confess your feelings?”
“First day of school,” Avery says with a grin. He’s grown out his reddish-brown hair and gotten a cartilage piercing. Looks very pirate-y. Either that’s the boyfriend effect, or seeing that dashing new look is part of what made Jared act on his feelings.
“I was feeling celebratory, because yeah, Santi is officially committed.” Jared’s dark skin turns a warmer shade that betrays his blush, and he turns to Santi, beads clacking on the ends of his braids.
Deflecting attention as always. He nudges the QB affectionately, and, God, I missed them.
It hits me so hard, I almost can’t breathe.
“Talented bastard. Way to start the year on a high we can never top.”
Santi shakes his head modestly, and I feel a pang of regret from how much I’ve missed out on. For a moment, all I could think about was how good it was to see them—but now I’m reminded of all the milestones I’ve missed. All the distance between us, and how it got there.
“But we didn’t come to talk about that,” Santi says, elbowing Jared. He fixes me with that familiar look—intense with love, wanting to be sure he sees you, and that you see him seeing you—and says, “We came to talk about John.”
My chest clenches up all over again. They wouldn’t have come to my game just to reinforce how much I hurt him, would they?
Jared nudges Santi right back. “Stop it. You’re freaking him out.” He turns to me with an apologetic look. “He’s not going to press charges. We took care of it. We wanted to tell you, so you’re not worrying, and… yeah.” He trails off, nodding decisively as if that settles anything at all.